Michael’s heart pounded as he stood frozen at the door, his mind racing with questions and worst-case scenarios. He knew he had to act, but he also needed to gather enough information to understand the situation fully. The fear for Emily’s well-being surged within him, wrestling with the need to remain calm and composed.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself before pushing the door open further. “Gloria,” he called out, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. The maid jumped, startled, her eyes wide with surprise as she turned to face him. Emily, sensing the shift in energy, looked up with her big, innocent eyes, oblivious to the tension that hung in the air.
“Mr. Whitmore!” Gloria stammered, quickly placing the jar down beside her. “I—I didn’t know you were returning today.”
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